


Come, Tell Me How You Live

by LuckyLikesLemons



Category: Block B, GOT7, Winner (Band), iKON (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst and Feels, Broken Promises, Cambridge, Eventual Relationships, Fluff and Humor, Light-Hearted, M/M, Slow Burn, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-27
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:27:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24390544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LuckyLikesLemons/pseuds/LuckyLikesLemons
Summary: Minho's first year at university is a torrential river of shitty exams, bad decisions, annoying friends, broken relationships, copious amounts of alcohol and disgustingly unrequited crushes. The only spot of sunshine in his life is that one super cool TA who makes his heart go through some seriously questionable gymnastic routines.Yoon? Yoon just wants to finish his PhD in peace after nursing his broken heart.(Not if Song Minho has anything to say about it.)
Relationships: Kang Seungyoon/Im Jaebum, Kang Seungyoon/Song Minho | Mino
Comments: 24
Kudos: 22





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! I wrote this piece on a whim and I decided to put it up because, why the hell not? It's a good distraction from vulture gut enzymes. 
> 
> This is going to be a University AU based in Cambridge. That's the only thing that's certain at this point, everything else is up for debate.
> 
> The Minyoon will be slow burn, and when I mean slow burn I mean SLOW burn, like the rate of roasting a large mammal with a matchstick.
> 
> Yay me, I just debuted the Yoon/Jaebum relationship tag after 6 failed attempts at tag edits.
> 
> Title is from the White Knight's poem in Chapter 8, Alice Through the Looking Glass by C. S. Lewis.
> 
> Enjoy!

**_“I had someone once who made every day mean something._ **  
**_And now… I am lost…_ **  
**_Nothing means anything anymore.”_ **

**_― Ranata Suzuki_ **

* * *

Yoon stared unseeingly out of the window, his mind swirling with sad thoughts and sadder memories.

It was raining again, a common feature of his life in Cambridge, but it had never been this depressing before. The rain hammered on the flimsy overhang sheltering the balcony of his shared flat, streaming down in long sheets and battering the potted plants Seunghoon had bought cheap at a garden sale a few days ago. 

His heart felt like those soaked plants, drowning in a desolate sea of feelings and emotions he just wished would disappear. 

_2 weeks_.

2 weeks since he broke up with his boyfriend of 5 years over an unceremonious pub lunch and a couple of texts.

Jinwoo was exchanging worried glances with Seunghoon over the kitchen island. Yoon knew they were worried about him - he hadn't gone out of the house, skipped 2 days of classes and ignored all the texts from his professor regarding his final year dissertation.

He'd done nothing but sleep and mope around in his bed, barely summoning the energy to wash up and go to the bathroom. Jinwoo had left him alone for the weekend, ignoring Seunghoon's protests about him needing proper food and fresh air. Now, they were both visibly antsy. 

It wasn't fair to them, Yoon knew. They'd been nothing but understanding, and what had he done? He'd completely disregarded their offers of help. 

It looked like Jinu had lost their telepathic argument. He approached Seungyoon like he was a wounded animal, footsteps soft and wary.

'Yoonie...'

He felt Jinu's warm palm on his shoulder, his body heat slowly leaching through the thin material of his shirt. Warm. So warm. 

_When did he get so cold?_

'I know this is hard for you, but you've got to keep going. You've barely eaten anything for 2 days, and you're still wearing the same clothes you wore Saturday night. You haven't talked to your friends, and your professors think you're sick. This isn't good for you, Yoonie. How about we -'

Seunghoon broke in abruptly.

'Everyone's worried about you, Yoon. We know Jaebum meant the world to you, but -'

Mistake.

Seunghoon seemed to realise that he'd said the wrong thing when Jinwoo smacked a hand over his mouth with a furious look on his face.

Jaebum.

_Jaebum._

God, why did it hurt so much?

Just the thought of his name brought up so many memories, a sweeping tidal wave of them, right from the day they'd first met in junior school all those years ago. Thinking about them made him feel physical pain, like a part of his heart had been ripped out. 

It was true though, wasn't it?

Breaking up with Jaebum, he _had_ ripped a part of his heart out. Theirs hadn't been a simple relationship - what do you call a bond with someone you've spent nearly all your living days with?

_13 years..._

13 years of friendship, laughter, tears and secrets. 5 of those filled with a love so pure, so all-encompassing - he was sure their souls had meshed together at some point. 

Was Jaebum out there too, feeling the same agonizing struggle he was going through right now? Did he feel as hollow, as empty has he did? 

_Because Seungyoon still loved him._

It was pathetic, but he did. After all, what wrong had Jaebum done? Nothing. He had decided to follow his dreams, and those dreams were in a country across the ocean, far far away from Seungyoon. 

_Distance._

That was what had torn their relationship apart. Not cheating, not lies, but distance.

They'd been struggling with it the past 3 years, sealing over fracturing cracks with thin reassurances, frantically calling while running to catch trains, scheduling and cancelling and rescheduling, trying in vain to make up for gaping distance and lost time. Smiling as though they were unaffected by it all, burying the hurt and the loneliness, smiling because at least they had this, these precious few hours where they could be together, sheltered from the storms eddying outside.

Jaebum leaving for the United States had been the final blow - Yoon could deal with a 7 hour train journey to Scotland, public holidays and weekend trips. 

A whole other continent?

No. 

He'd been the one to break it off, because Yoon knew what he could deal with.

Distance was not one of them. 

He'd been coping with it for Jaebum's sake but this was too much. It wouldn't be fair to the both of them. 

They'd parted quietly, no arguments, no blowouts. Jaebum knew Yoon was sensitive to those things and hadn't said anything, accepting Yoon's words at face value. Thinking about it made him want to cry.

He hadn't let himself break down so far, it had been his decision to end things and he felt like he had no right. 

'Yoon...'

If he started, he wouldn't be able to stop. 

'It'll be okay.'

Jinu's voice whispered out to him, soft and understanding.

'Trust your hyungs, Yoon-ah. We'll take care of you.'

Seunghoon gathered him up into a hug, and Seungyoon let himself break down. The sound of his cries mingled with the thunder of the rain as he heaved and gasped on his hyung's shoulder. 

**_I love you Jaebum. I loved you so much. I'm so so sorry..._ **

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Haha? I can already see the torches and pitchforks.
> 
> Please leave comments, they are my soul food! ❤️
> 
> Bear in mind that I'll decide whether or not to update based on the reader response because this is going to be a long and ambitious piece of work. I will require lots of motivation and heaps of hugs to update regularly 🙃


	2. Drunken Escapades and Dirty Rooms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Minho makes some bad decisions, wakes up, regrets those bad decisions and then does what he always does - calls Jihoon to come bail him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I feel like I went too heavy with the prologue, something I didn't realise until I actually sat down to read it, but meh. It works. 
> 
> I just want to point out that the actual story is going to be pretty light hearted. 
> 
> And now we have Minho's rather unreliable opening narration. Enjoy!

The first thing that Minho sees when he wakes up is the ceiling. Damp, discolored and painted a depressing shade of oatmeal. 

He focuses on the large cobwebs festooned in the corners of the room as he tries to get his bearings. 

Room? _Unfamiliar_. 

Date? _Don't know._

House? _Not his._

Drunk, disoriented and disappointed in himself? 

_Yes, yes and yes._

Luckily, the room is still dark. He stretches and rolls off the bed, doing his best to ignore the warm body sprawled beside him, snoring into oblivion. He gropes around in the shadows for his clothes and succeeds in finding his trousers, paint smeared and sticky with spilled beer. His socks are nowhere to be seen. 

Head pounding, he props himself on the wall and pulls his trousers on. A thin ray of weak sunlight falls on his face, sparkling on suspended dust. The air is thick with the smell of sweat and dirty sheets. He gags a little.

He vaguely remembers a bathroom off the hallway. It's in an even worse state than the bedroom. The mirror hanging over the cracked washbasin is speckled with spots of rust. There are large outgrowths of mold around the shower taps, and a cockroach skitters across the tiles. 

He decides to try his luck with the medicine cabinet and finds an unopened toothbrush and an almost expired blister pack of paracetamol. He makes use of both and washes his face, wincing at the dark circles beneath his eyes.

He finds his coat thrown over a chair by the bedroom door with phone, keys and wallet bulging in the front pocket. He still can't locate his hoodie, so he puts the coat on bare chested.

It wouldn't be his first time going home without a shirt anyway.

  
*** * ***

  
Minho makes his way down the lane, jumps a fence, crosses a dewy field and finds the high street leading back into town. His phone is near dead, inundated with texts and missed calls, probably from his mother and Jihoon. 

He hunches his shoulders and walks past two bakeries, eventually ducking into the door of a cafe. He gruffly asks the girl behind the till if he can use the Wi-Fi, then orders a coffee, black, no sugar. 

The girl seems to pity him and pushes a dry hot cross bun onto his coffee saucer, probably thinking he was homeless or some kind of tramp off the streets. He doesn't deny the notion, shooting her a smile that he hopes looks grateful and not depraved.

Jihoon picks up on the first ring, sounding worried, panicked and ten levels of stressed.

_'Minho! Where are you!?_

'I don't know, some place off Ewell. There's a field with a pond and 2 bakeries on the high street.'

_'Thanks mate. That's really going to help me. Bakeries on a fucking high street, how's that for directions? Every high street in Surrey has one!'_

'Look man, I'm sorry - '

The cashier seems to understand his struggle.

'You're in Lower Ashtead. Tell him you're at the Bakewell on Church Street.' 

Minho parrots the location to Jihoon, who laughs in relief. 

' _Well, at least you're still in Mole Valley. Wait a bit and I'll come get you in the car.'_

'Dude, you don't have to. I'm pretty sure there's a railway station somehwere around - '

' _Yeah, no. You want to meet your mum like that? I'm pretty sure you don't have a shirt. I'll bring a change of clothes in the car and drop you off at Dorking.'_

'Thanks, Jihoon. You're the best.'

' _Yeah, well. I told your mum you'd be sleeping over at mine. Didn't think you'd leave with some hot thing after the party, but at least you're nearby. Good thing you didn't bugger off to another district.'_

There's a scuffle on the line, then silence. 

Minho smiles and puts his feet up on the chair. You could always trust Jihoon to have your back, especially after a drunk night partying.

  
*** * ***

  
'So.'

They're on the A24 to Dorking, seated in Jihoon's dad's mini cooper convertible. Minho had wanted to lower the hardtop, but the weather outside was miserable with a cold, damp fog descending from the south. He didn't think Jihoon's dad would appreciate what the humidity would do to his brand new, plastic covered seats. 

Jihoon had arrived 5 minutes after he had called. He had apologised to the cashier, thanked her for putting up with him and then bought two apple turnovers, fresh and steaming from the oven. He'd recieved a charming grin and a small slip of paper for his trouble, with promises to visit again sometime soon.

Back in the car, he had given Minho his signature 'I-don't-know-why-you're-my-best-friend' look before sighing and chucking him an old tank top and a packet of wet wipes. But Minho had caught the small smile on his face when he'd slipped the number into his pocket.

'So?'

'So, how was it? Worth your time?'

Minho shrugged and licked some errant pastry crumbs off his fingers. 

'It was okay. So-so.'

'So-so? Really? You ditched the party and scarpered to another town for something so-so?'

Minho sighed and rattled around the glove compartment. He found a bottle of perfume that probably belonged to Jihoon's mother. Eh. It would do. 

'I don't know man, she seemed kinda interesting. On hindsight, I must have have been terribly drunk. Her place was a pigsty. Cockroaches, mold, the works. Like it hadn't been cleaned in ages. You should totally stop me next time, you know I don't make good decisions when I have a few.'

Jihoon snorted. 

'Serves you right, you bastard. One moment you were right next to me, the next moment you were gone. Your mum blew up my phone after midnight, and I had to spout all sorts of lies to keep her from calling the Surrey police. So the next time you want to get laid, how about telling me before you bugger off?'

'Yeah, yeah, I'll keep that in mind.'

'Right then. If you can do that, I'll make sure that you don't have one night stands with people whose bathrooms are potential biohazards.'

'Truce?'

'Truce.'

Minho grinned and pulled out a packet of sour skittles he'd found underneath the passenger seat. 

'So, how about that number?'

* * *

Twitter [LuckyLikesLemon](https://twitter.com/LuckyLikesLemon)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple things that might require clarification: 
> 
> • Surrey is a county in the UK. Beautiful, rural landscape on the suburbs of  
> London.  
> • Ewell and Mole Valley are districts in Surrey.  
> • Dorking is a market town in Mole Valley, and Ashtead is a small village in  
> the same district.  
> • The A24 is a national motorway that connects Ashtead to Dorking.  
> • To 'bugger off' is basically just another word for 'fuck off', a bit of local  
> slang.  
> • Apple turnovers are my favourite desert and taste absolutely delicious. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please leave kudos and your thoughts in the comments, they always motivate me to write more ❤️


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